


Brushstrokes On My Heart

by Dragonquillca



Category: USWNT - Fandom, Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Ali is a politician, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ash is an artist, Contemporary Romance, Eventual Romance, F/F, I promise not to kill anyone off
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:48:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29161431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonquillca/pseuds/Dragonquillca
Summary: Art is in Ashlyn Harris’s soul, and she’s possibly the most talented painter that Stirling City has ever seen. But while Ash’s career is taking off, there’s no love in her life. She’s new in town and still recovering from a heart-shattering rejection.When Councilwoman Ali Krieger stops by the bank one morning, she is left breathless by a new painting hanging on the wall. She makes inquiries and learns that she and the artist share a mutual acquaintance. Once introductions are arranged, neither of the women can deny the pull they feel for the other.Ali wants Ash with the intensity of ten suns. Ash doesn’t trust that she won’t be hurt again and she’s not sure she’d recover if the relationship with the opinionated Councilwoman doesn’t work out.But just as Ash starts lowering her walls, her past catches up with her and threatens to turn Ali away. Can their feelings for each other overcome a past that threatens to burn them both?
Relationships: Ashlyn Harris/Ali Krieger
Comments: 53
Kudos: 85





	1. Layers

**Author's Note:**

> A brand new fanfic for a brand new year!

Even as her foot left the roadway, she felt the kiss of a bumper graze her heel. Once both feet were safely on the sidewalk, she spun to face the fleeing car.

“Slow down, asshole, you could have killed me!”

“Ash, are you okay?!” Brea Pillar pushed through the gallery doors as fast as she could, hands out.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Ash replied as she glared in the direction the speeding car had gone. “Sure hope you’ve got the coffee pot on.”

Brea opened the gallery door and let Ashlyn enter the building first. “For my favorite artist, of course!”

“I thought I’d bring a little surprise to our coffee date today,” Ash teased with a lopsided smile.”Something new.”

“Something for the gallery?” Brea asked hopefully. As the owner and manager of the Northern Lights Gallery, she was always on the lookout for paintings and photographs that might catch the eye of a collector. She had found Ashlyn painting in the park, and convinced her to let Brea sell her paintings. Her engaging landscapes never stayed in the gallery for long, and the art collectors in Stirling City were already buzzing about her talent and future. So the very thought of new work from Ashlyn’s brush was something to get excited about.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but this one’s a commissioned piece for the bank.”

“Really! That’s something to celebrate! Can’t wait to see it.”

Tucked off to the side of Brea’s office was a large wooden easel, and while Brea poured coffee and set out cookies, Ashlyn unwrapped her surprise and set it on the easel.

Then she stepped aside.

“Oh...Ash…” Brea stood transfixed by a landscape unlike anything she’d ever seen on canvas before.

A multi-hued sunset lit up the sky with translucent swaths of coral, oranges and reds behind a stand of white birch trees anchored by green shrubbery.

“How did you…” Brea put her reading glasses on and peered closely at the canvas.

“Watercolour sky with oil overlay,” Ash replied as she took her cup from Brea and went to sit on the sofa. “I’ve been working on it for a while now. It was getting kind of hard to keep this a secret actually,” she chuckled.

“It’s stunning,” Brea breathed. “The bank doesn’t deserve this.”

Ashlyn beamed with pride. “Well, maybe not, but do you think you could sell a few in the same style?”

“Do you know where the bank is going to hang it?”

“The manager, James I think his name is, said he was going to hang it behind the tellers so that everyone could see it.”

“Have you given him a sneak peek?”

Ashlyn sipped at her coffee. “Nope, all he knows is that he’s getting a local landscape.”

“Here,” Brea moved over to her desk and picked up a stack of business cards. “When you hand him the painting, hand him these. He’s going to get a lot of people asking about that painting, and he can send them all here.” Brea handed Ashlyn the cards. “How long did it take you?”

“Maybe a month? Didn’t keep track, sorry. But my next one will come to you.”

“Splendid!” Brea sat at the opposite end of the sofa and tucked her leg under her as she faced the blonde. “Are you doing alright? Do you need anything?”

“As long as James pays me, I should be good,” Ashlyn said with a smile. “Did you see the hockey game last night?” She changed the topic. “From what I heard on the radio, there was a pretty dramatic score.” 

They chatted for a while longer before Ashlyn drained her cup and stood. “Is it okay if I use your bathroom before I head for the bank?”

“Of course, you know where it is. I’ll wrap your canvas back up for you.”

“Thanks.” Ashlyn shot the gallery owner a quick smile and left the office.

As soon as the door closed, Brea stepped quickly behind her desk, took four hundred dollars from her wallet and stuffed it into an envelope.

By the time her painter friend returned, the envelope was sealed and stuffed deep into her backpack where she wouldn’t find it until she got home. 

Brea was taping a utility blanket around the canvas as the office door swung open. “There, that should be a little more secure until you get to the bank.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem at all,” Brea watched Ashlyn slip her pack back on. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“I’ll check in with you in a couple of weeks and let you know how the next one is coming.” Ash smiled, tucked the wrapped canvas under her arm and left.

********

The next morning, Councilwoman Ali Krieger stepped up to the counter of the Stirling City First Bank and gasped as her gaze was captured by Ash’s painting. “Oh...gorgeous doesn’t  _ begin _ to describe it!”

The teller glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “I know, right? It was delivered by the artist yesterday. We’ve had all kinds of comments about it. We’ve been told to direct interested parties to the Northern Lights Gallery.”

“Of course,” Ali smiled brightly and got down to business. “I just need to order a new set of checks…”

As soon as she left the bank, Ali headed for Brea’s gallery. They’d been friends for the past five years, meeting in a doctor’s waiting room, of all places. They’d gotten to chatting, as folks do when a doctor is running late, and found they had enough in common to bond over repeated coffee meet-ups. In fact, it had been Brea who had encouraged Ali to pursue a seat on the City Council. 

The main entrance was unlocked, which wasn’t surprising. Brea was nowhere to be seen straight off, so Ali called out.

“Brea Pillar, you’d better  _ not _ be trying to avoid me!”

A voice called out from the back, “Why would I be avoiding you? I’m not the one who lost twenty-five dollars in poker last week!”

Ali laughed and wandered in the direction of Brea’s voice. “I’ve come to pump you for information.”

“Oh?” Brea came out of a storage closet wiping her hands on a rag.

“I saw the most mind-blowing painting in the bank a little while ago, and the teller sent me here for the artist’s name. Who painted it? How do I reach them and how can I get one?”

“Woah,” Brea laughed and held her hands up. “Easy, Tiger. Where you this intense when you played pro soccer?”

“Actually, yes, I was. It’s what got me as far as I did. At least until age caught up to me.” 

“You want to come have a cup of coffee?” Brea motioned with a thumb toward the back of the gallery. “The artist is relatively new to Stirling City, she’s quite shy actually. She stopped off here with the painting yesterday, it’s really something, isn’t it?”

“She?” Ali replied with excitement. “Who is she? Why haven’t I heard about her before this?”

“Her name is Ashlyn Harris…”

“Never heard of her.”

“I discovered her painting in the park about six months ago. I could see right off that she had talent. I’m surprised you’ve not seen her paintings here, I sell them for her.”

“You’ve got to introduce me to her!” Ali glanced at the watch on her left wrist. “Ack! I’m going to be late! We’ll talk about this again, alright? Take care!”

And as quickly as she’d blown in, Ali Krieger, former soccer star, Olympic medalist and multiple World Cup award winner, breezed out of the Northern Lights Gallery.

Brea stood blinking. “She’d be so overwhelmed by you, she might tuck tail and run back to wherever she came from. No, I don’t think Ashlyn is quite strong enough to meet you yet, Ali Krieger.”

**To Be Continued!**


	2. Running For Office

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hint of one's past, and a glimpse into the future of the other.

Ashlyn shifted her pack on her back and studied her surroundings as she walked back toward her apartment. She’d been pleased to find a trail that not only led back toward her new home but also stuck mainly to the backside of a large park. The trail allowed her to stay among the trees, away from most people and keep to herself. She was happiest when she was out here, in nature. She didn’t like most people, they were too demanding, usually wanting something from her that she had no interest in giving or taking part in. Brea had been the exception so far. Ash shook her head and smiled to herself as she stepped over a puddle. She’d found the envelope stuffed deep inside her backpack when she’d stopped to get her jacket out. Initially an interesting person to talk to, the gallery owner had convinced Ash to let her sell a few of her paintings in the Northern Lights Gallery. A few paintings had become every one Ash delivered. Except for the one commissioned by the bank. 

Brea had become a patron, in the classic sense, when she learned Ash had been living in the far reaches of Riverside Park because she’d been unable to find a place to live. Brea had insisted that Ash, at the very least, sleep on the sofa in the gallery office at night. But that hadn’t lasted long. She’d found an apartment close to the backside of Riverside Park, and handed Ashlyn the keys one afternoon.

“Furnished, private and all yours.” She’d said.

“But I can’t afford…”

Brea had waved away her protests. “Don’t worry about the rent. I’ve got it covered. Consider it an investment in my favorite painter.”

The apartment had been painted a bright yellow and sparsely furnished with new furniture, linens, a new mattress and a stocked fridge and cupboards. One corner of the living room cradled a large window that overlooked part of the park. An easel waited along with a cabinet full of canvases, paints and brushes. It was obvious that Brea had put a lot of thought into making sure Ashlyn was comfortable.

Now that she no longer had to worry about day-to-day living, her artistic muse had blossomed. So Ash wasn’t surprised to find four hundred dollars stuffed inside her backpack.

She shook herself out of her thoughts and focused on her surroundings again. Without being conscious of it, she’d followed the trail through the park, across a small parking lot and was now at the building’s front entrance. It was a building of eight units, and while the tenants weren’t close to each other, they all knew each other by sight at least. She unlocked the door, stepped inside the lobby and up the stairs. She didn’t bother checking for mail because she knew there would be none for her. No one would be writing to her, and that was the way she wanted it. 

If she had her way, no one from her past would ever find out where she was.

********

“Councilwoman Krieger, Mayor Bartlett is here to see you.”

“Thank you, Elizabeth. Show him in,” Ali replied with a small sigh. She knew what Bartlett wanted.

He wanted to discuss her political future.

Again.

For the past few months, he had been pressuring her to run for his office in the next election. She had held off committing one way or the other so far, but the man was tenacious if nothing else. He would allow her to get away with it for only so long. 

Bartlett strode into her office a little less energetically than he usually did. His posture still hinted at a military background, his blue eyes were still sharp, but there was a sadness there today.

“Mr. Mayor, what can I do for you?”

“It’s time to fish or cut bait, Ali.” He replied and he lowered himself into a visitor’s chair. “I’ve just come back from the doctor’s office. He gave me an ultimatum. Make this my last term, or surrender precious time with my family. In short, he believes my health isn’t strong enough to run again. So, we need to have the conversation you’ve been putting off. Give me three good reasons why you shouldn’t run for the Mayor’s seat in a few months.”

“I don’t have the connections.”

“Maybe not, but you and I both know how the people of Stirling City feel about you. Your popularity numbers are higher than mine.” Bartlett made a dismissive gesture.

“Okay.” Ali conceded. 

“I mean, you already know how to do the job as well as I do,” the Mayor continued. “You’d probably do it better than I have since you’re so unflappable…”

“I’ll do it.”

“And on top of that...pardon?”

“I’ll do it.” Ali replied.

“No more putting me off or coming up with reasons why you won’t run?”

“Nope.”

“So I can announce that I’m putting all my support behind you?”

“If that’s what you’d like to do, certainly.”

“Hot diggity!” Mayor Barlett slapped the arms of the visitors chair and smiled broadly as he stood up. “You’ll make a fine Mayor, Ali!”

“Well, that remains to be seen, but thank you for your support and enthusiasm, Sir.”

“May I offer a piece of advice before I go, CouncilWoman Krieger?”

Ali nodded.

“From this moment on, you are campaigning for Office. Every action you’ve taken and every word you’ve uttered and every email you’ve ever written since you left soccer will be hunted down and scrutinized. Be above reproach and mockery and lead by example. Be yourself, and you’ll do fine.”

“I’ll try to remember that, Sir, thank you.”

Bartlett reached out and shook Ali’s hand.

Once her door had closed behind him, Ali turned her chair to gaze out over the city.

A city she wanted to run, to guide, to shape.

It was a far cry from what she’d done in her thirties, to be sure. 

Didn’t they all say forty was the new thirty?

Bring it on.

She turned again and keyed the intercom. “Elizabeth, can you come in here please? Bring a pad and pen. Our lives are about to change.”

**_To Be Continued!_ **

  
  



	3. Scandals & Militia Members

Ali watched Elizabeth settle into the visitor chair the Mayor had recently vacated.

“So,” Ali began. “How would you like a promotion?”

Elizabeth laughed. “Why, are you campaigning for God-hood?”

“Not quite as dramatic as that. Mayor.” Ali replied.

“Seriously?” Elizabeth stopped laughing.

“Yep,” Ali nodded and a strand of her dark hair fell over her shoulder. She flicked it back and commented off-handedly, “Wonder if I could go blonde?”

“I think you’d look great as a blonde, but can we backtrack for just a second here?” Her secretary asked. “You’re running for Mayor in the next Civic election?”

“I need you to compile a list of staff I’ll need to hire, please. And I was serious about the promotion. If I do happen to win the Mayor’s office, I’ll need you more than ever.”

“We’ve been together since college, Ali. I’m not about to abandon you now.” Elizabeth said as her phone in the outer office rang. “Did you need anything else?”

“Not that I can think of right now. I’ll let you go and get that,” Ali smiled and chucked her chin toward the door.

Elizabeth returned her smile and left, closing the door behind her.

Ali turned her attention to a large binder sitting on the corner of her desk marked ‘Zoning By-Laws’. There was a scheduled vote the following week on a proposed zoning change in her ward, and she had a lot to learn before she knew enough to cast an educated vote. 

Later that afternoon, a brief knock at her door pulled her focus away.

“Come in,” she called out.

Elizabeth came through with her arms full. Under one elbow, she had tucked a clipboard, and in her hands were two sandwiches, two bottles of water and a small package of cookies. “I noticed you skipped lunch, CouncilWoman Kreiger, so I brought you a little something.”

“You know you don’t have to use the honorific when it’s just us. I thought we were past this?” Ali replied with a smile.

“Not while the door is open and there’s a chance someone else might overhear. Do you have time to go over a few things while we eat?”

“Sure, I could use a break from historical by-laws,” Ali replied, gratefully flipping the binder closed and setting it behind her on the credenza.

“Tuna or ham?”

“Tuna, all the way. What do we need to go over?”

Elizabeth passed the sandwich, the cookies and a bottle of water across the desk, then sat and arranged her lunch. After taking her first bite, she consulted the clipboard.

“I compiled a list of the staff you’ll want to consider having as you aim for the Mayor’s Office. Campaign Manager, Communications Director, Treasurer, Volunteer Co-Ordinator, although that position could be filled by a Volunteer Co-Ordinator, Office Director…”

“You’ll take that on, right?” Ali asked.

“Of course. Oh, and a Technology Manager. And volunteers to help spread the word on where you stand on the issues that will come up in debate with the other candidates for the office.” Elizabeth passed her boss and oldest friend the sheet listing the various positions and their responsibilities. “So you’ll need to do some research into who your opponents will be, and where they stand.”

“And balance that with what folks in my district want, of course.” Ali took a drink of water, swallowed and held her friend’s gaze. “You haven’t made any...umm...personal choices that are going to bite us in the ass, right?”

“No, I haven’t gotten any scandalous tattoos or piercings, or dated any militia members, if that’s what you’re asking. You?” Elizabeth laughed.

Ali scoffed. “After that last foray into dating? Hell, no. Unless I meet someone that takes my breath away, I am happily single, thank you very much.”

_**To Be Continued!** _


	4. First Quarter Author Note

I hope that by now, my regular readers know that I try and approach my fiction from at least a partially-educated position. Some may say that “it’s only fanfiction”, and they’d be correct. But…

Fanfiction serves a purpose, maybe multiple purposes. Yes, it entertains, of course, but for some of us, it allows us to rewrite life, history or other forms of entertainment. I enjoy research, it gives me an excuse to learn things I didn’t know before. For example, I did quite a bit of research on snakebites for my Western fanfic, and discovered that yes, it truly is possible to suck out venom. So it hurt me when a reader commented that it was, and I quote, “bullshit”. I hope that I’m not the only one who learns something with every one of my fanfic stories.

There is a great deal of fanfiction on the web, not all of it is good and even less of it stands out years later. I hope that what I write is considered good, at least. Some of you have commented that my fiction is unlike any other A&A fanfiction out there right now, and I’m very proud of that. Thank you all for reading the words I’ve written in the A&A fandom. Thank you to all who have subscribed to me so that you won’t miss any of my stories. Your loyalty means a great deal to me and frequently keeps me writing.

I know all of you have lives beyond our shared fandom. You work, study, have families, read books and so on. Help me write more fanfiction. What do you read? What movies or television shows interest you? What stories would you like to see in fanfiction? What would you like to see me write? I hope you’ll comment below and help me shape some amazing fanfiction.


	5. In The Sky With Diamonds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, I got completely sucked into 'The Surrogate' by Inked11, and I just couldn't stop!

Ash stabbed the button on the coffeemaker, then stretched before shuffling over to the easel. The layers of indigo that made up the sky had dried overnight, as had the fat, white moon that hung in the right corner. Today, she wanted to focus on putting in the trees. Tall, majestic, straight pines that reached for the stars. She had gotten the inspiration for the painting in one of her favorite corners of the park. But it was not the park that was making its way onto her canvas. Her brush seemed intent on recreating a stream that raced over rocks, down a stream bed that cut through the pines, a place that had been special to her once. Before her heart had been broken there. Before she came to Stirling City. 

She didn’t wait for the pot to finish brewing, she poured a cup of strong coffee and took it out to the balcony. Her view faced west, all the better to paint sunsets, but she could still watch the morning light inch along the landscape in front of her. On clear mornings, the sunlight crept up the tree trunks, bathing them in a brief, golden glow. It was a fleeting sight that could not be easily captured on canvas. Even if she’d had a camera, Ash doubted that a photograph would properly capture the feeling as the land was bathed in the first light of the day.

She took her now-empty cup inside, refilled it and got to work. As she filled her brush with paint, she reflected on the unexpected direction her life had taken since coming to Stirling City. She never would have expected to be an artist, and yet each successive painting brought her more money. As she began to shape trees, she had an idea. She took a fan brush from the jar, mixed up a thin layer of cerulean and retrieved a congratulations card that Brea had given her on her first sale. Inside the card was an explosion of gold glitter. Ash took her small pocket knife out and carefully, gently scraped some of the glitter loose. Then she quickly spread a thin layer of paint over the indigo. She sprinkled some of the glitter over the fresh paint, just a bit, so that there was a hint of stars in the sky. This was a new technique for Ash, one she hoped would really grab someone. Satisfied with the effect, she rinsed the fan brush and returned her attention to the trees.

**_****_ **

As Ash was slipping between the sheets later that day, Ali was just getting home. She locked her apartment door behind her, set her briefcase on the floor and slipped off her shoes. A long, relieved sigh escaped. She really wasn’t a fan of the shoes needed for office-wear. But until runners were considered a good match for power suits, she’d have to make the best of it.

Ali padded into the kitchen in her stocking feet and poured herself a glass of wine. The cool tiles felt good under her aching feet. A note folded on the counter, tent-style, caught her eye.

_ Ali, _

_ I dropped by with some food, and by the look of your fridge, it’s a good thing I did! I left salad for you. There’s meatloaf, pasta and stir-fry in the freezer. _

_ Call me when you can, _

_ Mom _

Ali opened the freezer and laughed aloud. Her mother had stocked it nearly full with Tupperware containers neatly stacked, only leaving room for frozen juice and an ice-cube tray. She took one of the containers off the top of a stack and glanced at the tight handwriting.  **_Spaghetti_ ** .

She may have been an adult, but her diet would have been crap if not for Deb’s weekly visits. As Ali removed the lid and set it in the microwave, she reflected on all the nutritional knowledge she gained when she had played soccer. But she also knew that she was far too busy these days to eat right. And there was no way her workload was going to get any lighter now that she’d decided to run for Mayor.

Mayor Bartlett had emailed her that afternoon to recommend a campaign manager, Athena Garry. He praised her work ethic and ambition, claimed she was one of the smartest people he knew and said if Ali didn’t at least interview her, he’d question her sanity.

Ali chuckled as she sat down on her sofa with wine and pasta in hand. 

Of course, she had looked up Athena Garry for herself, and made a few discreet enquiries. Everyone gave the woman their highest praise, saying she would be a good fit on Ali’s Mayoral team.

They were scheduled to meet first thing the next morning.

Ali set down her wine glass and picked up the remote. She told herself she’d watch one episode of Ascension while she ate, and then go to bed. As Tricia Helfer paced across her screen, Ali sighed again. The actress looked so much like her ex, it almost hurt to watch. But as she ate, her eyes never left the screen. 

The next morning, the alarm on her phone jerked her from a wonderful dream. She slapped at the device until the offensive noise stopped. She rolled out of bed and pulled on a black tank top and sweats. The smell of coffee wafted throughout the apartment and Ali inhaled appreciatively. She laced runners on her feet, spooled her workout playlist and stabbed the start button on her treadmill. She strode through her office door an hour later, hair still damp from the shower.

**_****_ **

As Athena Garry was shaking Ali’s hand later that morning, the whine of a drill was shattering the peace of Ashlyn’s apartment.

Ash waited for it to stop, took a breath and leaned toward her canvas.

The drill started again.

She waited.

There was silence from the hall outside her door, so she leaned in, touched the brush to the canvas...and jumped as the drill whined again.

“Shit!” There was clearly a white streak where she hadn’t intended there to be one. Angry now, she stalked to the door, unlocked it and threw it open, fully intent on blessing out the idiot who had ruined her tree.

The idiot in question, complete with a toolbelt around their waist, was drilling a hole in the wall directly across from her with their back to her.

Once the noise had stopped again, Ash spoke up. “I don’t know who you think you are, but do you need instructions on how to drill a goddamn hole once and be done with it?”

The idiot lowered the drill and turned around. “Ash?”

“Brea? What the hell are you doing?” Ash couldn’t have been more surprised if aliens had stopped to ask for directions to Dairy Queen.

“Trying to mount a light,” Brea replied. “Sorry about the noise, I didn’t think anyone would still be sleeping.”

“I wasn’t, I was working,” Ash held up her paintbrush. “I can see what you’re doing, I meant why are you doing that?”

“Because I refuse to ask a man to come in and charge me a stupid amount just to install a light.”

“Why would you want a light there?”

“Because I’ve gotten complaints this hallway is too dark and it’s making some of the tenants feel unsafe.”

“Not clear on why someone would complain to you…”

“Because I own the building,” Brea said with a shrug.

**To be continued...**

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's a twist!


	6. Simplicity

Ali shook Athena’s hand. “Welcome to the team, Miss Garry.”

“Thank you, but you can call me by my first name. I promise no one will burst into flame or anything. So I suppose my first task will be to find us campaign headquarters?” Athena’s expression was eager. She was a few years older than Ali, and proud enough of her Israeli-American heritage to make it clear early-on in the interview. She was a few inches taller than Ali, with shoulder-length dark hair and brown eyes that danced with anticipation.

“Yes, I’ve asked for a special session of Council tonight. I have my resignation speech written and ready to go, and as you can see, there’s not much left to pack here.” Ali gestured to the mostly empty room they sat in. Her photos had been taken off the walls and packed away beside her books, the credenza sat empty and all that was left was to empty a couple of desk drawers. She’d take home her siamese fighting fish later in the day.

“It might take me a few days to find a space suitable…”

“Oh, that’s alright. I can work from home in the meantime,” Ali waved off the other woman’s caution. She passed a business card over. “That’s my email and phone number. No home number because I use my cell for everything.”

Athena nodded as she accepted the card. “Can I assume you’ll want office space inside your ward?”

“Yes…” Ali replied slowly.

“I worked for a congressman once who wanted a lavish office with a very specific view. He didn’t care that it was nowhere near the people he was supposed to be serving.” Athena explained with an eye-roll.

“Ah. Yes, I’d prefer that the campaign headquarters be within my ward. I’m also going to be looking to fill the rest of the team out. I don’t suppose you have any recommendations?”

“I’ll compile a list this afternoon.”

“Great! I’ll let you get to office-hunting then, and I’ll get back to work as well. Come on, I’ll introduce you properly to Elizabeth, our office manager.”

****

Ash blinked at Brea standing in the hallway across from her. “You own this building? For real?”

“For real.” Brea grinned at her.

“There has to be a story there...you want some coffee?” Ash jerked her thumb towards her apartment.

“Sounds good. Just let me finish putting the light in and I’ll knock when I’m done.”

Ash smiled a little and nodded. “I’ll go make us a fresh pot then.”

Brea turned back to her installation to cover her surprise. In the six months she’d known Ashlyn, she come to recognise two things about the blonde. First, she was incredibly talented with a brush. Secondly, she was incredibly private. In fact, she’d never even seen a phone in the woman’s hand. Curious…

Half an hour later, she knocked on Ash’s door and was greeted with a shy smile.

“Hey there, c’mon in.”

Brea slipped inside and shut the door behind her. “Thanks for the invitation.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you owned the building?” Ash asked her.

Brea shrugged as she followed Ash into the living room. “I don’t know. Would you believe me if I said it just never came up?”

“Well, that’s true I guess.” Ash agreed as she poured two cups of coffee from a carafe on a knee-height table.

Brea glanced around the apartment. “You can paint, you know.”

“I thought that’s what I’d been doing,” Ash said as she flicked her fingers toward the canvas waiting on the easel.

“I meant the walls, comedian.”

Ash smiled a full-on, shit-eating grin. 

“Seriously, you can make this space your own. It doesn’t look as if you’ve done anything to it since you moved in.”

“I haven’t.”

Brea sipped from her cup as she considered her next words. “I recognize that you’ve only known me a few months, Ash, but this…” she circled a finger to encompass the apartment. “This isn’t temporary as far as I’m concerned. You can stay under our current arrangement for as long as you like.”

“What do you charge the others for living here?”

“It varies.”

“I don’t follow.”

“What I charge Mrs. Schmidt across the hall is different from what I charge Mr. Jackson on the first floor. Her circumstances are different.” Brea shrugged. “There’s not many apartments in this building, as I’m sure you’ve realized, and I’m in a position where I don’t need to worry about the building paying for itself. So I can charge rent on a sliding scale.”

“But you’ve made some good sales for me recently…” Ash started to protest.

“From which I have taken our agreed-upon ten percent, so don’t worry about it. This is good coffee.”

“Thanks, it’s apparently blended, roasted and ground a couple of states over, so almost local. I found it at the Saturday market in the park.”

“Have you met any of your neighbors?” Brea asked, trying to keep the conversation away from money.

“No. I’m not much for socializing. Just keep to myself.”

“No television, no personal connections other than me, no entertainment…”

“I have my painting, my books and the park,” Ash gestured toward the balcony. “I don’t need a lot in life.”

Brea sighed. The artist she’d come to think of fondly was clearly hiding from something. Or someone.

**_To Be Continued!_ **

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any theories on what Ash might be hiding from? Share your thoughts in the comments!


	7. Withered Bubbles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one before we get into some interesting and suspicious stuff!

Ali expected to feel a pang of nostalgia as she closed her former office door behind her. But it was an excitement that raced through her. Elizabeth’s desk was already emptied out, and the woman herself had left early to help Athena scout sites for a new campaign office. Ali held her Siamese fighting fish’s tank tightly to her chest and headed for her car. She figured she had this afternoon to herself, and she intended to make the most of it. A long soak in a hot bubble bath and a bottle of wine were in her immediate future, and there was no time to waste.

An hour later, the bubbles had withered away and the water was no longer hot.

Ali sighed and left the tub, pulling the plug as she went. She dried off and wrapped herself in an oversized fluffy robe. With a refreshed glass of wine, she settled on the sofa with her laptop to check her email. She was pleased to see Athena had emailed a list of opponents for the Mayor’s seat. Two of the names were vaguely familiar to her. Abraham Hancock, a man that had on occasion made a fuss about the Council’s perceived lack of concern over the potholes Stirling City seemed to grow like weeds. The other was former City Councillor Linwood Roth who had become infamous for his unusual resolutions. He was best known for wanting checkpoints installed on the roads around the city. That particular resolution hadn’t been viewed favorably and hadn’t even lived past the vote to add it to a future meeting agenda. 

Ali shook her head. This would be an interesting campaign. A text notification pinged on her phone and after a brief glance at it, Ali sighed. So much for her afternoon off. Athena had not only found an office but also had three people coming in for interviews in just a couple of hours.

“Well, I least I can go somewhat casual,” she said as she rose from the sofa.

********

“We set up your office back here,” Athena pointed and led the way toward the back of the large open space.

“Why all the way back here?” Ali asked.

“Two reasons. One, it’s the only space with any privacy besides the washroom and two, because it’s easier to control who has access to you.”

“Are you expecting I’ll be mobbed with constituents?”

“You never know,” Athena shrugged. “But the privacy issue isn’t one we want to skimp on.”

“No, that’s true. So who do you have lined up for me to interview in my new office?”

“I know a young man that volunteers with me down at the Community Center, he’s a whiz with anything tech-related and I thought he’d be a good fit for your technology manager. He can design and build a website for the campaign, manage any social media accounts we want and build a database of supporters that we can utilize for volunteers. He’s enthusiastic, knowledgeable and black, but since you hired me, I didn’t think that would be a problem for you.”

“‘Course not. What time are we expecting him?”

“In about fifteen minutes, a half-hour after that you have an interview with Harlow Bristol to fill the communications director’s position…”

Ali didn’t get home until well after dark that night, but as she fed her fish she was comforted by the fact that she had her campaign team all settled. Now all they needed was volunteers to get the word out.

**_To Be Continued_ **


	8. Smoked Cheddar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm lending Ash a neighbor I had when I was younger. Mrs. Schmidt. She really was quite german and quite friendly. She was the cat-lady of the neighborhood, owner of a massive horse chestnut tree and she really did have an adult daughter that would take her shopping.

Ash stepped out of the small apartment building and slid her sunglasses on. It was only ten in the morning, and already the day was shaping up to be a brilliant one. Her neighbor across the hall, Mrs. Schmidt, was paying a taxi driver with multiple bags of groceries at her feet.

Ash watched the taxi driver shake his head, get back in the car and drive off.

“Nice guy, he wouldn’t even help you upstairs with your groceries?”

Mrs. Schmidt turned toward her with a smile of recognition. “Ah, Ashlyn...no, he refused.”

“Well, if you take the bread and eggs, I can carry everything else,” Ash replied as she started plucking the plastic bags up off the sidewalk.

“Thank you, you are such a good neighbor.” Mrs. Schmidt’s german accent was heavier than usual. “But surely you aren’t going to take all my groceries at once?”

“If I distribute the weight evenly, sure. I’m stronger than I look.”

“If you hurt yourself, Ashlyn, I will never forgive myself.” Mrs. Schmidt shook her head as she carried the bag containing the eggs and bread.

“It’s just Ash, remember? Your daughter didn’t take you shopping this month?”

The elderly woman shook her head again as they went inside and went to the elevator. “She said she was too busy.”

Ash wanted to make a comment about ungrateful adult children, but she kept it to herself as they waited for the elevator. “Is it always this slow?”

“You do not use it?”

“I take the stairs.”

“But we live four flights up!”

“Like I said, I’m stronger than I look.”

Finally, the elevator picked them up and deposited them on their floor. Ash took her neighbor’s groceries into her apartment, refused payment at least ten times and headed for the stairs. Her newest painting was carefully wrapped and in her backpack, and she was headed to Brea’s gallery to surprise her.

Ash could hear voices as she crossed the gallery floor. She wore running shoes most of the time and she was pretty quiet by nature. She could hear Brea’s voice coming from behind a half-wall and a woman answering. Ash stepped around the half-wall and stopped a few feet away so she wouldn’t interrupt.

“There’s my favorite artist!” Brea said with a smile and a wave. “Come on over here, there’s someone I’d like you to meet. Ashlyn Harris, this is Ali Krieger. Former soccer phenom, Olympic medalist, multiple World Cup winner and now, apparently, candidate for the Mayor’s seat.”

“I’ve heard so much about you, I’m thrilled to meet the genius behind the paintings,” Ali smiled a thousand-watt smile and reached out to shake Ash’s hand.

As their hands touched, they both felt a small jolt race through their palms, as if they’d been dragging their feet across a carpet.

Ash blinked and returned the smile. “I hope Brea hasn’t been exaggerating…” She couldn’t finish her thought as she fell into the whiskey-brown depths of Ali’s eyes. Flecks of gold danced there and entranced her.

“I’ve got coffee on in the office if either of you want some.” Brea offered.

Ali blinked and the spell was broken. Ash took her hand back a little regretfully. “No, thanks, I just came to drop off that painting that you saw the other day.” Ash slid her backpack off, took the canvas out and unwrapped it. 

“Ash...it’s stunning! I think you’ve outdone yourself this time.”

“How did you get the stars to twinkle like that? I can almost hear the water rushing over the rocks!” Ali gushed.

“Artists secret,” Ash replied with a wink. “Think you can sell it once it’s framed, Brea?”

“I’ll have so many people in here trying to buy it, I’ll have to beat them off with a stick, my friend.”

“Cool.” Ash passed the canvas to Brea, picked up the utility blanket it had been wrapped in and passed her that as well. “That’s yours too. Anyway, I’m going to head for the Farmer’s Market before the cheese stall sells out of five-year-old smoked cheddar. Apparently, they don’t have much left in reserve. It was good to meet you, Miss Kreiger.”

“You too. I hope we run into each other again.”

Ash smiled shyly and headed for the door, conscious of two sets of eyes on her as she left the art studio. 

Once the gallery door had closed, Ali blinked and remembered to check the time. “Crap, I better get moving before I’m late for my own announcement. I have to get to the Community Center.”

“You’re announcing there?” Brea asked.

“Yep. A couple of my opponents have already announced their candidacy from City Hall. I want to be remembered as the one who stands up for our community and it seemed perfect to set the tone. Do me a favor and don’t sell that painting to anyone but me.” Ali gave her friend a quick hug. “Hopefully we can grab lunch later this week?”

“Text me and we’ll set something up, Madame Mayor,” Brea replied with a smile.

“From your lips to…” Ali smiled, pointed up and left the gallery. Outside, she looked up and down the street for the blonde painter, but she was gone.

“So you like smoked cheese, hmm?” Ali whispered. “Good to know…”

**_To Be Continued!_ **

  
  



End file.
